


Stay and Listen

by LeftShark



Series: Peter Quill and his Ravager Family [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Dad Yondu, Peter just being a lil shit, kraglin's kinda just there, peter needs to chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftShark/pseuds/LeftShark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter should really listen to his dad. Especially when his dad tells him to just shut up and lay down before he gets himself injured even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay and Listen

**Author's Note:**

> When I am bored, I write things.  
> When I write things, they are most likely going to be about Peter Quill because he is my son. And I enjoy bringing him pain. Especially when that pain comes from falling on to a table and breaking it.
> 
> Unbeta'd trash. All mistakes are mine.

"Stay put. Like hell I'm gonna stay put," the 15 year old grumbled to himself, sitting up on his knees as he finally pulled the grate to the vent shaft in front of him off. His left leg felt big and heavy, due to the cast around the lower half of it, and it make his foot stick out awkwardly. It looked even more awkward when he adjusted his position and stuck his leg out so he wouldn't sit on top of it and crush it. "Yondu can't tell me what to do."

He lowered himself to his hands and knees and squeezed into the tunnel before him, surprised that there was no dust inside. Normally these things were dirty and left him in a coat of dust within minuets. He hadn't crawled through here since he was 11, but he still knew every curve and corner of the tunnels like the back of his hand. His favorite pastime used to be exploring the elector. The vent shafts were his best friends, they allowed him to go into places that Yondu had stupidly labeled "no kids allowed."

He figured it would be best to go down and make his way toward the mess hall and the hangar. Maybe he could crawl into one of the M-Ships and rest without his dad breathing down his neck. He was actually surprised that Yondu had left him alone long enough for him to get away. So down he went (because going up would require him standing up and jumping in some places, and he couldn't do that with his injured leg.)

 

Yondu kicked the grate with frustration. Peter was already too far gone into the vent tunnels to reach. The only person who would fit somewhat comfortably enough to go after him would be Kraglin. But even then, some of the tunnels got too narrow. Peter was still very small, though. He could get just about anywhere, and all he had to do was crawl his way into a little tunnel and out of Kraglin's reach and he'd be untouchable.

From the tracker that he'd attached to Peter's jacket, it said that the boy was two levels below him, sitting in a dead end. But when Yondu brought up the ship's blueprints and tracked the heat signals, it showed that a warm-blooded life form (definitely Peter) was further down and moving quickly. From the shape of the red and yellow blob on the screen of the data pad, it looked as if Peter was crawling his way towards the mess hall like an infant. Slow, yet at the same time, faster than expected. Yondu was sure the cast would slow him down.

The boy was smart; he most likely tore the tracker out of his jacket as soon as he found it. But he was not smart enough to remember that Youndu would always find him no matter where he tried to hide. The Elector is his ship, after all...

 

 

Freedom!

The teen looked down below him through the small grate. He was right above the mess hall, and he could see as some of the crew members passed by.

The usual lunchtime would be soon, and he settled down in the cold, metal tunnel. Maybe he'd watch as the crew filled the room, and laugh at them as they milled about like a bunch of farm animals. Apparently, he was entertained by that thought. He crossed his arms and rested his lower face against them, eyes and nose peeking out from behind the red jacket sleeves. He lightly kicked his feet back and forth, careful not to swing his injured leg around too quickly and hit the floor or wall. That would make a loud noise, for sure.

 

 

He hadn't meant to fall asleep, really; He didn't even know he was tired!

When he woke, he could see that the mess hall was full again, but with different people in different places. It must've been close to "dinner" time. (Any time towards the end of the day where almost everyone was in the mess hall eating. Which really could be at any time. The crew was ALWAYS eating.)

Pulling himself into the world of the waking, he rubbed at his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms out in front of him. He'd been napping for hours. Maybe now was a good time to finally get out of the air vents and probably go eat something. He skipped out on lunch time to escape Yondu's mother henning. He was more than hungry.

Slowly, the boy pushed himself back up and began to crawl forward.

He had barley made it a few meters when the tunnel rattled and bent beneath his knees.

Before he could grasp what was happening, the tunnel caved and broke underneath him, sending him slipping downward through the gap.

He reached forward, attempting to grab on to something, but there was nothing there.

In the blink of an eye, he laid in the remains of a broken table (thankfully, no one had been occupying the table), eyes wide, brain unable to comprehend what the hell just happened.

He fell; He knew that. But the table...he broke it. And he wasn't expecting to fall. Or to smash through an entire fucking table and, damn, he must be heavier then he'd ever considered. Which also beat up his brain, because he never thought himself to be heavy. Yondu and Kraglin were still able to lift him and manhandle him around because he was still small. But he just broke an entire table...

It took him ten full seconds in real time to get his mind together, but to him it felt like centuries.

He'd looked around, seeing everyone looking at him wide eyed and startled. From the corner of his eye, he could see Kraglin stalking toward him.

 

The 15-year-old took in one deep breath, blinked his large green eyes twice, and then proceeded to sob in an unruly way. It was the first thing his mind went with. He wasn't even in THAT much pain. His injured leg did feel a little numb and fuzzy, but it was nothing to cry over. He'd taken worse beatings.

Still, his mind (on its own) decided that he should sob until his lungs burned.

Everyone only stared on longer.

Peter hadn't cried since he was 11. No one knew what to do. When he was smaller, they'd pat his back or brush their hands through his crazy hair and try to shush him until he calmed down enough to be quiet. Now, though, it looked like someone had bodyslammed the boy straight through the table and he was probably more injured that he was before he fell, and nobody wanted to get near him and risk him screeching at them until their eardrums burst. (Because that had always been Peter's way of saying "don't touch me!" when he was too busy crying to form words)

"Cap, I found him," Kraglin mumbled into his comm unit. "He's in the mess hall now..." He kneeled beside the smashed table. "Peter! Hey--shut up, kid." He said; Obviously not the best at trying to calm the kid.

It worked, though. Peter had bit his lip and reduced his awkward sobs into whimpers.

"You're a Ravager, kid. Ravagers don't cry over petty falls like that," Kraglin said, pulling Peter up into a sitting position. "You did a number to this table, though..."

Not two minuets later, Yondu strode into the room, ordered everyone out and barked at someone to fix the vent tunnel later, and then stood in front of Peter and Kraglin, raising an eyebrow.

"What the hell happened?"

"I f-fell from th-ere!" Peter pointed upward toward the ceiling, hiccuping on the sobs he forced back.

"It was actually pretty funny," Kraglin admitted. "Wanted to laugh, but I had to make sure the kid wasn't too badly broken, first."

"You hurt, boy?"

"No," Peter shook his head and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"The what the hell are ya bawlin for?"

"I..." Peter looked up and shrugged. "It scared me?"

 

Yondu rolled his eyes and mumbled down thing about kids being idiots before hauling the teenager into his arms. "Ya jump scared the whole damn crew, too. I wasn't sure if it was jus' you I was sensing, or everybody." (*)

Peter sighed and rested his head against Yondu's shoulder. This was definitely more comfortable than laying on a broken table. "Your mind powers are weird."

"First off, boy-o, they ain't 'mind powers'. They're empathetic. Second, I'm tyin' ya to the bed this time," the Centuarian grumbled. "So ya won't escape and do some stupid shit again."

"Wait, but..." Peter wiped at his wet face with his hand. "If you do that, use orange ropes. Orange is my favorite color."

"Someone says they're gonna tie ya up and the first thing you do is request that they use your favorite colored ropes? Boy..."  
The Captain's voice trailed off as he left the mess hall with the teen clutched in his arms.

Kraglin shook his head and watched them leave, then left himself to find someone to clean the remains of the table that Peter had broken. Someone was gonna have to do it sooner or later.

**Author's Note:**

> (*) I pretty much took comic Yondu's powers and, like, added on to them? Like, when the people he is close to have strong emotions, he can feel them. For example, when Peter is upset or extremely scared, he can sense it.
> 
>  
> 
> \---  
> I wrote this because I love my tiny son Peter..
> 
> Alright, Who the fuck am I kidding, I just wanted Yondu to go into Dad mode and carry Peter away to safety.
> 
> That is the only reason this exists.  
> And I should just make a series of Dad Yondu ficlets bc I will refuse to believe that Yondu was mean to Peter. Instead, he can be like that Awesome Step-Dad that you wish was your real dad. And he loved the hell outta tiny Peter.


End file.
